One benefit of preaching in various churches across the continent and in other parts of the world is getting a glimpse of how different congregations worship and follow the Lord’s commands. Case in point? The variety of ways in which the Lord’s people celebrate the Lord’s Supper.
The Lord’s Supper is communion with King Jesus at his table with his people. We eat the bread and drink the cup, giving thanks for his body and blood, and we’re strengthened for service by this foretaste of the feast to come.
You can find a wide spectrum of practices associated with the supper, sometimes in the same denomination. And because the way we partake of the supper is inextricably intertwined with the event’s meaning and significance, it’s no wonder we see Christians throughout history coming to blows over what’s taking place or the proper way of observing this sacred ritual. There’s the East vs. West divide over leavened or unleavened bread and the ongoing debates over whether intinction (dipping the bread in the cup) symbolizes something untrue in our Christology, not to mention the famous showdown between Martin Luther and Huldrych Zwingli at Marburg, with Luther—exasperated and exasperating—scrawling on a board Hoc est corpus meum (“This is my body!”).
Cards on the table—I’m one of those old-timey Baptists who isn’t “memorial-only” but believes in the strengthening grace of the supper via an encounter with Christ through the Spirit, and who wishes all churches celebrated the supper every Sunday. “Amidst us our Beloved stands” is the first line in Charles Spurgeon’s Communion hymn.
The pushback I get regarding frequency is that weekly participation would make it less meaningful (although the same principle seems not to apply to preaching, praying, singing, or taking up an offering). Maybe we’d alleviate that concern by changing how we take the supper from time to time—so different approaches can highlight various facets of the beauty of Christ meeting us at his table.
In what follows, I’m laying out a few ways I’ve seen the supper taken in evangelical congregations, with an eye to different facets of beauty in how we follow the Lord’s command to eat and drink together in remembrance of him until he comes.
1. Passing the Plate, Taking Together as One Body
When I was growing up, the Lord’s Supper came at the end of the service, with the mood usually somber (though not funereal). The deacons first passed a plate that contained little pieces of unleavened cracker, and then we’d pray and eat all at once. Next, they passed the plate with individual mini-cups of juice, and then we’d pray and drink all at once. (This was also the way I received the supper in evangelical churches in Romania.)
At some point, my church invested in new plates that held the cups together with a central platter for the bread. This made it harder to take the bread and cup at the same time, so you’d pass the plate to the next person, who would hold it out to you while you took the elements. Our church loved this new approach because it put us in the role of serving the person to our immediate right or left. I remember the chatter about how meaningful it was to serve each other the elements when the deacons passed the plate down each row.
Observing this change showed me that the way we take the supper says something about what’s going on in the meal itself. I still love this approach to the table. I love the communal meaning of the meal. I love the ritual of waiting to eat and drink at the same time, which highlights the unity of the Body. We together commemorate this moment, as if we were making a toast at a wedding (though the juice is nonalcoholic in most evangelical churches!). We look around to our brothers and sisters, left and right, and then we look up to meet the Lord in the moment we partake. A beautiful reminder that we’re the Body of Christ partaking of the body of Christ.
2. Going Forward, Hearing the Covenant Truths
When I served as teaching pastor, our general approach to the Lord’s Table was to pass the plate. But on certain occasions, we’d go forward for Communion, row by row, taking the elements and then returning to our seats for private prayer before eating and drinking on our own. The best part of this approach was to hear my fellow pastor hold out that broken matzo bread or put forward a tray of individual cups, and quietly say, “The body of Christ, broken for you, Trevin” and “The blood of Christ, shed for you, Trevin.”
While some might think this approach is individualistic, there’s something beautiful in lining up as if we’re beggars in a bread line or a soup kitchen, waiting our turn, all of us—no matter our status, our wealth, our popularity—empty-handed at the table, where someone authorized by the congregation presses bread into your hand and the covenant truth of Christ’s death for you into your heart.
In more liturgical denominations, this approach includes kneeling at a rail at the front of the church with hands outstretched, a posture that highlights even more the truth that we’re hungry beggars gathering up the live-giving crumbs from the table of the Lord, trusting in his mercy and sustaining grace.
This is for you. Undeserving sinner though you are, Christ’s body for you. Christ’s blood for you. I choke up even now, just thinking of how thin that space is between heaven and earth.
3. Breaking a Loaf, Drinking from a Cup
In some churches, the pastor breaks a loaf of bread or large piece of cracker (leavened or unleavened, depending on the church’s tradition) while reminding the congregation of the meaning of this meal. The pastor may also fill individual cups from a large jug. I see this approach primarily in smaller congregations, where the number of attendees doesn’t require the need for more than one loaf or more than one jug.
This way of taking the supper highlights Paul’s description of God’s people eating from one loaf and sharing in the same cup. In more liturgical traditions, the congregation comes forward to sip from the same cup. I love the familial feel represented by all sharing the same loaf and cup.
This method is less common, especially since COVID-19. Many times, we pick up a prepackaged Communion wafer and juice outside the sanctuary on our way in. While this may be more sanitary, something gets lost in terms of significance. Imagine everyone showing up for Christmas brunch with latex gloves on, and Grandma slapping down a Hot Pocket on your plate. The Hot Pocket is more efficient, and you may be less likely to come down with the flu, but it comes at the cost of the feast-like atmosphere, and the latex implies we’re all dangers to each other, as if we’re carriers of disease rather than grace. Granted, in times of plague, precautions may be warranted and prudence may require a shift in our approach, but I hope what’s happened in many churches since the pandemic doesn’t remain the new norm.
4. The Supper as Climax of a Community Meal
Another beautiful way of taking the supper is treating it as part of a meal, which is likely the way the early church celebrated together on Sundays. The moment of remembrance comes within the context of a larger celebratory feast.
There’s something glorious about enjoying table fellowship and conversation with fellow believers and then welcoming the Lord to this, his table, knowing in the end we’re all together because it’s he who has welcomed us. I’ve seen this done multiple ways, and I’ve especially enjoyed a Seder feast before Easter, when the symbolism of the Old Testament Passover is transposed into a Christian key by showcasing the fulfillment of prophecy in Jesus’s death and resurrection.
What Do We Call This Moment?
There’s something rich in exploring all the different names the supper may go by, depending on one’s tradition.
- In Acts, we see the moment referred to as “the bread-breaking,” a beautiful blending of the fellowship meal and the Lord’s Supper commemoration.
- The “Eucharist” comes from the Greek word that refers to thanksgiving, reiterating the gratitude that should pervade our celebration of what Christ has done for us.
- “Communion” is a reminder that here, we fellowship with Jesus and with his people. And Holy Communion indicates this is a special, set-apart moment of fellowship.
- “The Lord’s Table” is another reminder that this meal marks another life-sustaining meal between the Last Supper with the disciples in the upper room and the great marriage feast in the new heavens and new earth.
- “Mass”—from the Latin for “sending”—reminds us that the Father has sent his Son, and now his Son sends out his people in the Spirit’s power after having strengthened them through the supper.
Whatever you call it, however you celebrate it, there’s much to be gleaned by reflecting on the symbolism of your church’s traditions when observing this meal together. Treat the moment with reverence, with joy, with gratitude, with faith.
“The moments we are nearest to heaven are those we spend at the Lord’s table,” Spurgeon said. At the table, you meet with the Lord who calls you his own.
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